Para Bellum
by chellethatwizz
Summary: AU. Si vis pacem, para bellum. If you wish for peace, prepare for war. Sakura leads a dangerous life, and Itachi is adrenaline personified. A glance at a bar could entwine their souls forever. ItaSaku fic. Hints of ShikaSaku. OFFICIALLY OFF HIATUS!
1. Chapter 1

He probably never would have noticed the little bar at all. Small, camouflaged amongst the brick buildings on either side of its doors, one would walk right past and never know. Perhaps it was the beckoning of the only door on this street that he knows nothing about. Or perhaps it was the fact that the shadiest characters seemed always to float around this scrap of a door.

What Itachi Uchiha couldn't deny, was that this little bar had the strongest liquor outside of his own private stock in his study, and regardless of how he found the place, he _needed_ a drink, away from the problems awaiting him at his flat.

With a sigh, he pushed open the door, and took his seat at the corner of the bar. Tendrils of smoke weaved through the air around the patrons milling about the room. A small stage with a microphone stood taking up the back wall, the low lights giving the entire area a feeling of anticipation and tension. The regular band members talked quietly with each other, nursing drinks and cigarettes as their instruments lay near the curtain behind the mike. Figures from all forms of the underground community congregated under this roof, neutral ground with an uneasy peace.

The _click-clack_ of stiletto heels brought all attention to the stage, where a young woman of about twenty-two, was settling herself on a tall stool. Pink hair fell to her mid-back, streaks of blood red barely visible in the dim lighting. A sequined black halter dress hugged her luscious curves, accented by the charm bracelet on her right hand. Black shoes that criss-crossed to finally tie behind her muscled calves adorned her feet, and as she looked up to the audience, they came to rest on the bars of her seat.

Transfixed, Itachi watched as the vixen began to sing, a sound sultry and enticing, yet laced with something indecipherable – Pain? Loneliness? Loss? Secrecy? Her voice engulfed him for a moment, and alone in her world, their eyes locked and she told her story.

_Sometimes I feel_

_Like a motherless Child_

_Sometimes I feel_

_Like a motherless child_

_And sometimes I feel_

_Like a motherless child_

_A long...long way...from home_

_And sometimes I feel_

_Like I'm almost gone_

_Sometimes I feel _

_Like I'm almost gone_

_Sometimes I feel _

_Like I'm all alone_

_A long...a long way from home_

Gripping the microphone to her as if it were her only source of energy to finish the number, Haruno Sakura sang on, eyes closed and heart pounding with the adrenaline rush of being on stage, memories flooding every crevice of her soul. Nothing else mattered but this moment. Not the music that had begun to accompany her somewhere at the end of her first verse, not the smell of the cigarettes burning her nose, and not even the beautiful eyes of the stranger that sat at the bar.

No, tonight was her night. Her escape. The only other being in her mind's eye was the microphone in her hands.

_C'mon, C'mon_

_Who's got a shoulder when I need to cry_

_I feel restless and I don't know why_

_Cry for help, but still feel alone_

_Like a motherless child along way from home_

_Lord I'm lost I can't find my way_

_I'm dealin' with the struggles in my day to day_

_My soul is weak and I wanna be strong_

_I try to run away but I've been running to long_

_I've been running to long..._

_I've been running to long_

Belting out the next words, she found herself now standing, wielding the microphone as if she were born to tell the world of her past. Tears stinging her eyes, Sakura continued, washing her sins away with each note.

_Who's got a shoulder when I need to cry_

_I feel restless and I don't know why_

_Cry for help, but I still feel alone_

_Like a motherless child along way from home_

_Lord I'm lost I can't find my way_

_I'm dealin' with the struggles in my day to day_

_My soul is weak and I wanna be strong_

_I try to run away but I've been running to long_

With a shaky inhale and one last look at the crowd, Sakura closed her eyes and softly sang the last words, a single tear running down her cheek.

_I've been running to long..._

_I've been running to long_

_Like a motherless child _

_So lost and so long_

_Like a motherless child_

As the last chord struck on the piano, the bar erupted into cheers and applause for the young lady, and Rizu, the bar's oddly boisterous bartender, helped her down the stairs and over to the bar where he promptly began mixing a drink. Sliding it over to her, Rizu eyed the girl carefully, taking his time as he cleaned a glass

"It's been a long time, Red," he began.

"I wasn't gone too long was I Zuzu?" was the sweetly spoken reply as she took a sip of her brandy.

"Now come on kid we've discussed you calling me that," he looked around. "You're going to ruin my reputation."

"Well now, we wouldn't ever want that, would we?" Sakura said, rolling her eyes.

"Don't you raise you eyes to Heaven with me young lady! I'm not too sure I like your tone, either," he said pouting. "No love for big brothers in this day and age at all!"

"Aw, quit being such a baby, you know I love you to bits and pieces," came the answer.

Rizu's eyes softened. Three years. It had been three years since he last saw his little sister, and all he wanted to do was pull her into a bear hug and never let her leave his sight again. "I missed you," he said. "Am I to assume that you are here because you know I wanted you to come home?"

With a bitter smile, Sakura's hand tightened on the glass, spider cracks becoming clearly visible. "You know that's not how it works, Zuzu."

"Yeah," he sighed. "I know." Without further warning, Sakura vaulted over the bar to land in front of her brother, who immediately pulled her into his arms.

"I missed you, too big bro." Dammit. Her voice had cracked. Now was not the time to get emotional. Tightening her arms she breathed in the scent that would always be her brother. Ginger and alcohol.

Pulling back, Rizu looked his sister over. "You've gotten so big. Who told you it was ok to dress like that? You may be travelling all over the place, but not dressed like that you aren't!"

Rolling her eyes affectionately, she pulled her brother to the back room. "Come. We have much to discuss," she said, eyes never leaving the swish of the leather jacket that walked out of the room.

_Hm. _She thought._ Red eyes. I never got to introduce myself. _

Following her brother, she shut the door behind her. Face becoming gravely serious, Sakura looked him in the emerald eyes that matched hers so genuinely.

"It's him."

_To be continued . . . _


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: *sniffle* I do not own any of these characters, because if I DID own Itachi . . . well. I would not be writing fanfiction ya dig? ;] **

**Oh wait! But i DO own Rizu, from the last chapter. **

**Okiez, enjoy!**

* * *

_CRACK_

Like thunder crashing throughout a stormy sky, the shots rang off, one after the other as Sakura focused on the target ahead of her. The gun range was quiet, no one else here but the perpetually bored owner of the building, who, having been startled awake by the gunfire, sat watching her intense concentration. After four more perfect shots, his yawn did not go unnoticed. Smirking, Sakura turned to face him. _Serves your lazy ass right_, she thought with a chuckle.

Seeing her smug look, Shikamaru shook his head. "You are one of the most troublesome women I have ever had that absolute displeasure of meeting. Three years, and you wake me up at 1:34 am with gunshots ringing?"

"It never ceases to amaze me how even in your constant state of either severe lethargy, or a severe high -" he smirked in return at this "- you manage to weave words together as if you were an English professor."

"Well now, there's not fun in being an English teacher is there?" he said matter-of-factly as he stretched his limbs. Walking over he cracked a small smile. "Still as short as ever."

The barrel of a gun suddenly found purchase right between his eyes. " Kindly, go fuck yourself, Shika."

In a move too quick for the eye to see, he grabbed her arm and twisted her body so that her back was pressed to his front. Leaning down to her ear he taunted, "And still too slow."

Bringing her leg up, Sakura effectively made contact with his hamstring, causing his knee to buckle. Taking advantage of his loosened grip on her arm, she turned, and swinging the other around, landed a solid punch to his abdomen as the hand still holding his arm brought his entire body down to the floor. With her knee in his back and using his own body to crush the hand trapped underneath him, Sakura mimicked his previous action, leaning down to whisper, "I'm sorry, you were saying?"

Stunned at the change in position, Shikamaru tried to shift his body. He quickly realized that her knees current location prevented all movement, and despite her deceptively small stature, the grip holding his one free arm was steely and vice-like. "Troublesome."

Grinning cheekily, Sakura sat up to straddle his hips from behind, releasing him. "I'll take that as a 'Oh, yes Sakura. You have dominated me at long last!'"

With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, Shikamaru turned onto his back to stare up at the woman. "If it's domination you want, believe me sweetheart, I am _more _than capable of delivering."

"Same old Shika," she sighed, standing up.

Also standing, Shikamaru looked her over. Having changed from the clothes she donned at the bar earlier that night, Sakura now wore a form-fitting corseted top of a deep, blood red that matched the streaks in her pink hair, showing a sliver of her toned stomach. The black leather pants she wore fit like a second skin, falling perfectly into heeled black boots on her feet, accentuating her muscled calves. The long black coat that she wore over the ensemble managed to draw attention away form the pair of Baretta 92FS pistols hanging form her belt on either side of her hips. There was no doubt in his mind that more weapons lay concealed on her person. As his eyes finally rose to meet hers, he spied a small white circle near the hem of her top. _The Haruno family crest. _ He thought, intrigued. _I didn't realize she would still hold on to family ties considering her occupation._

"There can only be two possible reasons that you are here. And seeing as I met with your leader only a few hours ago, I know it is not because you are ascending his position after a tragic death. So tell me, is it true?"

"Yes. Orochimaru has returned." Emerald eyes shone with a fierce determination. "And I have my orders."

"Which are what, exactly?" he inquired, all traces of sleep gone from his visage.

With a wicked smirk painting her lips, she turned to look at the target that she had absolutely decimated earlier. "I'm an assassin, Shika. What do you think my orders are?" Picking up the training pistol with speed and grace that belied her agility, Sakura executed a perfect bulls-eye shot.

She looked back at the man she had known since she was eight years old. One of the many faces she had run away from, and simply left behind for three years. "Will you still stand by your oath, Shika?"

Walking silently over to her and taking her hand in his, Shikamaru watched as her fingers traced the three-inch long scar on his forearm. "Always, to protect what is held dear."

"Always, to protect what is held dear," Sakura repeated back to him. A smile creeping across her features, she began to walk towards the door leading to the back room. "Time to come out of retirement, Shika."

Shaking his head at this _troublesome_ woman, he agreed. "And what a time, indeed."

* * *

The roar of the engine died as Itachi pulled his keys out of his onyx Ducati with red accents reminiscent of his family's signature eyes. Pulling his helmet off and closing the garage, he took the lift up to his floor. Pulling the cage closed as he stepped into the flat, Itachi turned and sighed at the sight of his younger brother asleep on the couch. Grabbing the spare blanket from the recliner, he covered his sibling as his thoughts went back to the delinquent's unexpected arrival.

_Flashback_

_The steaming hot droplets eased the tense muscles aching from the two-and-a-half hour-long workout. Rinsing away his soap, Itachi heard what sounded like glass breaking. Stepping out of the shower, water still running, he grabbed the Springfield 45 handgun from the sink countertop. Stealthily walking out of the bathroom, he approached the living room, where muffled curses and shuffling could be heard. _

_The refrigerator opened. "Dammit, aniki. No tomatoes in the fridge either."_

'Oh, for the love of –' _stepping into the entranceway and shooting a look to the tall, shark-like man on the couch, Itachi put his gun down. "Sasuke."_

_Dropping the cheese, Uchiha Sasuke turned to look at his brother, "Itachi!" he started. "You know, it's a good thing you're here-"_

"_I do believe he lives here, Spiky. Speaking of which, care to tell us just why you are raiding our fridge?" came Kisame's voice from his perch in the living room._

"_Hn," was Itachi's agreement._

"_-'Cause we've been looking for you for a real long time," he continued as if Kisame hadn't spoken at all. "Do you know how much effort we have put into this? You and those crazy ass obsessive psychopaths you call friends are really difficult to find-"_

"_A fact that you pointed out not even two seconds prior to that statement," said Itachi rubbing his temples from the oncoming migraine._

"_I'm saying!" exclaimed Kisame. "I know you see this shit too!"_

"_-But whatever you guys do, and don't you think I don't know, you clean up very nicely I must say." Finally stopping to take a breath, Sasuke addressed his brother's question. "I need your help."_

"_How surprising," Itachi replied, the slightest hint of irritation in his voice. "No."_

_Hiding a chuckle, Kisame's voice said lowly, "You're tight."_

"_No?!" Flabbergasted, Sasuke walked over to his brother, stopping when his chest came into contact with the gun. "Yeah right, like you'd off me." At Itachi's raised eyebrow, he continued. "You don't even know the situation! How can you say no?!"_

"_Hn."_

" _On the contrary, my dear Sasuke," Kisame began, taking in the youth's unkempt countenance. "The colors you are wearing are by no means our family colors, and seeing as how you have devotedly worn them since you were six-," he watched as Sasuke stiffened, "-then it is quite obvious that you have now found a place to rest your allegiance. Judging by your apparent lack of proper nutrition, however, I believe that it is safe to say that either you are simply settling a debt, no doubt brought on by your recklessness, or you are being forcibly conscribed to work for someone. As no one on the east coast would even touch the ghastly shade of purple you are wearing, for it does not allude to the regal lifestyle of kings, but rather the disgrace of being the village idiot, your current affiliation with Orochimaru and his lackeys is both vivid and detestable."_

_Stunned out of his struggle against his brother's hold, Sasuke attempted to look at Kisame. Shrugging he replied to the look with nonchalance, "Eh, I figured you may need a translation. All he converses in is grunts and glares, anyway." Taking up the box of cereal on top of the refrigerator, he continued. "Besides, he's already used up his speech quota for the day."_

_Damning his Kisame's existence, his brother's intellect, and himself for underestimating said intellect _again_ Sasuke scowled. "If this was one of your little friends you would have done this in a heartbeat! Blood is thicker than water Itachi!" He stopped and looked at his idol. "But perhaps you have forgotten that. Just like how you _forgot_ about mom-"_

_Against the wall and unable to finish his sentence because of the hand tightening around his throat and the barrel of the gun in his mouth, Sasuke gagged, looking at his brother with anger, hurt and fear swimming in his crimson irises._

"_Don't you _ever-_," Itachi growled, pressing the gun more firmly against the teen's mouth. "-Assume that you know of what happened. I will gut you like a fish before I let you think that you can talk to me in that manner and get away with it. Remember whom you are talking to otouto. I taught you everything you know. And whether your ungrateful self acknowledges it or not, I am the reason you have stayed alive until now, with your deplorable behavior." _

_Eyes wide and nodding frantically, Sasuke accepted his reprimand, knowing full well that he had been wrong to bring the incident up. But _dammit _Itachi always got under his skin. _

"_Itachi," voice trembling with emotion that he dared not show to anyone else, and head tilted to the floor, Sasuke spoke. "Who the hell else am I supposed to go to? You just said it yourself. Which means, this is your own fault." _Dammit, _Itachi thought. _The brat has a point. _"Besides, I'm not with this fucker by choice."_

"_Language, Sasuke."_

"_He's after something. And he's got the ring."_

"_Bullshit."_

"_Language, Itachi."_

"_He can't have the ring! Shisui-"_

"_-Is no longer among us."_

"_What?"_

"_Shisui is dead, Itachi. Poisoned, and slit throat. They found him two weeks ago."_

_Wordlessly, Itachi turned and walked back towards his room. Sasuke's eyes spied the words of the tattoo on his left shoulder. _Blood is thicker than water.

_When he finally emerged again, twenty minutes later, he was fully dressed in his normal attire. Fully in black with tee shirt, jeans, boots, and gloves on, Itachi grabbed his leather jacket. _

"_Where are you going?" asked Sasuke._

"_Out."_

"… _Are you coming back?"_

"_Hn."_

_The door closed. With a sigh, Sasuke settled on the couch. _So, we're back to the one-word answers. _Not bothering to get up to find the remote, he closed his eyes, knowing a long wait was ahead of him that night._

"_Hm." Jumping, Sasuke turned to face the forgotten presence in the kitchen. "I guess I was wrong," said Kisame._

" _. . . About what, exactly?"_

"_He _totally _went over his speech quota for the day."_

_Smacking his forehead with his palm, Sasuke turned over. It was going to be a loooong wait._

_End Flashback_

Sighing, Itachi took a moment to study his baby brother's face. He was about twenty years old now, and his face had chiseled out, losing the boyishness that had defined him for so long. Gone was the innocence that Itachi had fought to keep in him, and in its place, the lines of someone far too grown up for their age.

Walking to his own room, he collapsed on the bed, thoughts drifting back to the green-eyed beauty he saw at the bar. _Pink hair. How utterly ridiculous, _he thought. Her surprising agility, _in a dress and heels, no less, _as she jumped over the counter,was surprising, and dear he say it, impressive. As was her voice. He wondered how such a small body could be so commanding. Turning on his side, he thought of that indecipherable look she held in her eyes, and the seriousness with which she carried herself.

_What an intriguing character. May the gods bless us with another meeting. I rather enjoy an enigma to decode every now and then. _

A mumble from the living room brought him away from his thoughts, and he rolled into a more comfortable position, thinking sleep may be a good thing. The next day, he and his otouto would have much to discuss.

With that final thought, Itachi let sleep claim him.

* * *

" . . . Shika. I love you."

"Yup, you know this," was the highly amused response.

Turning away from the arsenal stocked well enough to supply a small army, Sakura raised an eyebrow. "We have got to discuss this Rihanna obsession of yours."

"It's not obsession. She _will_ have my kids."

"I'm sure she will dear," said Sakura with a roll of eyes that landed on an intricately designed katana. The blade was completely black, and silver patterns of cherry blossoms trickled from the tip to the hilt. The hilt was a majesty in itself, with silver and red threading adorning its entirety. The sheath was the same deep color as the blade, and flipping it over in her hands, Sakura's eyes widened imperceptibly at the name engraved in the side.

"I knew you were coming home, even if you didn't," said Shikamaru, having tracked her inspection of the beautiful weapon. "Beautiful and lethal, always gets the job done in the hands of a worthy wielder. Consider it me saying 'welcome home.'"

Taking a moment to compose herself, Sakura ran her hands along the katana, eyes closed and slowing her thoughts down. Facing her friend, she smiled genuinely, reminiscent of a time where her guarded features were always open and happy, full of innocence.

"Am I truly what you consider to be worthy, Shika?" she asked, facing him fully. "A person worthy of this sword would not have left, running away from problems and the people that swore to help her through hard times. She would have stayed and fought, atoned for her sins, and she-"

"-And she is standing in front of me, having done all of those things and still more worthy than any other of such a weapon," said Shikamaru, firmly taking her chin in his hand. "You left to protect us. To give us a chance to better ourselves for when the time came to really make good on the promise to help you through whatever may happen in life. Or have you not realized how much stronger you have become?

"I will be the first to admit that I was pissed when you left. Not even a goodbye. Just a note saying 'remember the promise.' But I remembered, and I am better for it." Looking over her with an appreciative eye, he said, "And from the looks of it, you are better for it too. This time we will face those demons together. And we will have the peace we all deserve."

Emerald eyes that had closed during the impromptu speech opened to look at his hazel depths. Slowly, almost as if afraid of rejection, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Winding his arms tightly around her waist, Shikamaru pulled her close, molding her body with his. Kissing her neck and feeling her pulse quicken beneath his lips, he murmured, "It's time we got our peace, Sakura."

Breathing in his earthy scent, Sakura pulled him tighter. "Then let's prepare for war Shika."

_To be continued . . ._

_

* * *

_

**A/N: OKIEZ!!! so my 1st author's note. Firstly, no, you are not imagining it, there are hints of ShikaSaku in this chapter, yes, yes, I know. However, DO NOT FEAR! This is, undoubtedly an ItaSaku. Secondly, what do you as readers prefer: longer chapters with an extended waiting time for said chapters, or shorter chapters and quicker updates? I am not sure just where I am going with this story, but I would like to think that I have a pretty good idea . . . hm. **

**Fianlly, REVIEWS ARE LOVE! =] so please, leave me one. thank you for reading, and until next time!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Last time on Para Bellum . . . **

_Emerald eyes that had closed during the impromptu speech opened to look at his hazel depths. Slowly, almost as if afraid of rejection, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Winding his arms tightly around her waist, Shikamaru pulled her close, molding her body with his. Kissing her neck and feeling her pulse quicken beneath his lips, he murmured, "It's time we got our peace, Sakura."_

_Breathing in his earthy scent, Sakura pulled him tighter. "Then let's prepare for war Shika."_

* * *

With Sakura still in his embrace, Shikamaru was slightly startled to feel a vibration underneath the hand wrapped around her waist. Pulling back, Sakura retrieved a sleek black cellular phone. Her face became serious as she read the note, and turning towards the door she spoke in a low voice, "I gotta go."

Surprise staining his features, Shikamaru asked, "Go? Go where?" A quick glance at the clock had him walking behind her. "Saku, it's almost 3 a.m. Where could you possibly need to go?"

"When the boss calls, you don't question it, Shika." Emerald eyes fixed on his face. "You of all people should know that."

Sighing, he pulled her to his body once more. "Be careful. I won't be just letting you walk out of my life again. Not this time."

Touching his cheek, Sakura smiled. "I'll be fine."

"Sakura!"

Hand hovering above the door's handle, she turned back. "What?"

With a smirk, he tossed her the katana. "Don't forget your present."

"Of course not," and with a sweep of her black coat, she melted into the night.

Xxxx

Throwing the covers off of his sweating form, Itachi looked at the clock on his nightstand. _3:16 a.m. _He ran a hand down his face, taking deep breaths to calm his breathing. _I'm getting better. It's only happened three times this month. _Rising from his bed, Itachi stalked out of his room to the kitchen for a cold glass of water. Kisame was seated on one of the bar stools at the island in the center of the room that served as a dinner table.

Studying his long-time partner in crime, Kisame shook his head and took a long swig of his beer. "One of those nights, huh?"

"Hn."

"Since I'm assuming you will not be going back to sleep, you should have a seat. We have our new assignment." Arching a brow, Itachi took a seat. "I actually think Spiky over there would love hearing about this one."

"Orochimaru."

"Always the genius," chuckled Kisame taking another large drink from the bottle. "He's hiding out in plain sight, as they say. Or rather, that's what he would like for us to think. That little geek he calls his errand boy – what's his name? Ka- something or the other. Kakuvi? Karuma? Kabuno?"

"Kabuto."

"That's the one. Yeah, well, he was seen around the storefront on Reggie's block. Seeing as it's public knowledge that Reggie is one of ours, we think this is a decoy. They want us to follow the new trail Kabuto is leaving. He was last seen around noon last Wednesday. He has been making regular stops in the surrounding area, most often around that time." Another big gulp. "So far, we have just been letting him think that we don't know about his activities." Striding over to the fridge, Kisame popped open a new bottle and chugged.

"You're going to kill your liver."

"On this? Oh, please. Spare me the drama. All this has is sugar." Chug, chug, chug. "If anything, I'm giving myself cavities."

"Kisame. Put the bottle down."

Eyeing the smaller man as he continued to drink, Kisame grinned as he finally slammed the empty bottle on the countertop. "M'kay."

Eyebrow twitching at his friend's behavior, Itachi rose. Reaching for his jacket, he grabbed the keys to the SUV and said, "Let's go."

"Oh goody, a field trip!" came the mocking reply. "Let me just grab some snacks for the road and I'll-"

"Leave the beer in the fridge, or so help me God, I will make you eat your stomach through your gills."

Stopping halfway to his destination, Kisame turned around and grumbled. "Fine! God, I swear I would've been better off living with Deidara . . . "

"Please, be my guest," was the amused reply. And with that, they stepped into the lift, made their way to the garage.

* * *

"This had better be good, old man," said Sakura with irritation as she stepped into the dimly lit office. A large painting of many familiar faces took up the wall behind the desk near the back wall where and well-built man was seated. His long, spiky white hair belied his age, and the red tears tattooed upon his mischievous features served as evidence of his position and power. Around the office were various weapons, mostly katanas, with a few large shuriken here and there. Each weapon symbolized a powerful leader, previous heads of the organization to which Sakura was both employed and indebted.

"Now, now, Sakura," began the deep voice of the man seated in front of her. "Is that any way at all to greet your dear old dad after a three year absence?"

"Considering that a normal 'dear old dad' wouldn't be waking anyone at 3 a.m., no," she paused to let a small smile crack her features. "But seeing as it's only you, I think it's rather appropriate."

"Oh, the agony!!" the man suddenly exclaimed, startling Sakura.

"Hey, wait a minu-"

"Oh, woe is me!!"

A vein visibly began to pulse on Sakura's forehead. "Seriously? Three years and this is _honestly_ the best you can come up with? _Hamlet?_ Who the hell thought it would be a bright idea to let you read Shakespeare?!"

Undeterred, the crocodile tears continued to pour from the man's face, and with a great sigh, Sakura finally walked over to pull the melodramatic character into a hug. With sudden vivacity, he crushed her to him, "Oh, my little Saku! How dare you leave me for so long!"

"It –was your . . . _ouch _dammit – idea, Jiraiya!"

Pausing in his death grip to think, he acquiesced. "This is true . . . "

"Get off me you buffoon!" Now released, Sakura walked back to the front of the desk. "Now then, what could have possibly changed so drastically in our discussion not even fourteen hours ago, that I had to actually come into the office?"

"The fact that you are home, Sakura," said Jiraiya matter-of-factly. "You've grown so much. The black is new," he nodded, giving her a once-over. "But I must say, it does work for you, contrasts very nicely with the pi- Is that a tattoo?"

Sakura blinked.

Jiraiya blinked back: shocked, then agitated, then confused, and agitated again.

"I believe," he began calmly, "that I asked you a question Sakura Elena Haruno."

The silence stretched on.

After a few deceptive seconds, Sakura tested the waters. " . . . No?"

"Is that a 'no, it's not a tattoo, Jiraiya,' or a 'no, Jiraiya, I would never get a tattoo and not tell you in my three year absence in which I was still a minor upon its commencement'?"

"Actually," Sakura began. "It was more of a 'no, Jiraiya, I will not acknowledge that you just asked me a question, because doing so will imply that I am obliged to answer you,'" she replied cheekily.

And so, the silence was no more.

* * *

Rizu stepped off the elevator and onto the fifth floor to hear thuds and yelling coming from his father's office.

"They're at it already?" he asked himself shaking his head.

Briskly walking towards the office he absolutely knew would be in complete and utter chaos, he braced himself and opened the door.

"You little rascal!" came Jiraiya's excited reply as he attempted to see Sakura's neck. "After scolding me all these years for all my tattoos, you go and get tatted yourself?"

"Go away you overgrown porcupine!" was the shrieking response. "All of your tattoos are of naked women!"

"Not all of them, just the majority on my arms!" He picked up the chair thrown into his path, effortlessly tossing it to the side. "Come here and hold still, will you!"

Jumping over the desk, Sakura hopped into the leather swivel chair and pushed off to the other side of the room. "Dude, no!"

Jiraiya stopped. "Did you just call me 'dude'?"

"So what if I did?"

"You sound like a brat."

"You act like a kid."

"Takes one to know one."

"Hey! I am twenty years old now! I can do whatever the hell I feel like!"

"And apparently, you feel like crashing," came the hearty chuckle of Jiraiya as the chair Sakura was navigating smacked back-first into the filing cabinet in the corner, sending said pinkette straight towards her father. Catching her before she fell and sweeping her hair away from her neck in one move, Jiraiya exposed the windmill like symbol on her neck. "I win again, little one."

"Hmph." Sakura lay limp knowing she'd lost, allowing the inspection at last.

_Rasengan?_ Thought Jiraiya. _Of course. I shouldn't be surprised at all. _

The sound of clapping brought the two out of their musings. Rizu pushed himself away from the frame of the door to fully enter the office. "One broken swivel chair, a dented filing cabinet, three broken desk legs, one shattered window, and a mangled guest chair," inspected Rizu. "Not bad for your first night home, Saku."

Eyes narrowing, Sakura shot back, "Shut up, Zuzu." Standing up and turning to face her father, "Seriously, dad. What do you want?"

Jiraiya fixed his eyes on Sakura. Sighing, he started. "Things have changed slightly. Our sources on Orochimaru have suddenly been lost. All contact between ourselves and those sources have been forcibly severed, and until we can again regain contact with those individuals who were field working this case, there is no way we can move forward with your mission as it would compromise our membe-"

"Who are they?"

Rizu immediately caught his father's eyes and imperceptibly shook his head. "Saku, regardless of who they are, we cannot assume the risk of-"

"I could've sworn I told you to shut up, Rizu," Sakura replied, all warmth from her voice gone, leaving only a steely, business-like tone in its place.

"Sakura –"

"Who is it?!" she snapped. "Who is out there that you don't want me to know? Tell me! I'm not that same little girl who couldn't do anything anymore! Tell me what you're hiding!"

_Tsunade, thanks _so_ much for sending her back like this, _Jiraiya thought to himself. "S.O. agents Hatake Kakashi, Inuzuka Kiba, and Uzumaki Naruto were entrusted with this mission." He continued on, watching the warring emotions on Sakura's features. "Their failure to arrive at the rendezvous point two nights ago, coupled with complete absence of communication within the last month has warranted your new orders." Preparing himself for the storm that he was about to unleash, he concluded. "You are to stay within the city until these agents have been recovered. Until then, you are expected to maintain top form in both your physical and medical abilities."

"What the hell?!" Shrugging off Rizu's hand attempting to pull her back, Sakura began to advance on Jiraiya. "Like hell I'm staying in the city! Did you _hear_ the names that just came out of your mouth? Why did you wait so long to tell me? Are you crazy, leaving them out there-"

"Is exactly the type of situation they were trained for," interrupted the low voice of Rizu. Both Jiraiya and Sakura, prepared to argue to the death, turned to look at the man. "I trained them myself, Sakura. Do not insult me by questioning their ability to survive and accomplish the task set out for them."

"Rizu, you can't possibly agree with-"

"Actually, I do." Looking the girl straight in her eyes, he spoke. "You are the only sister I have. I just got you back, not even a day ago, and I will be _damned_ if I let you out of my sight for a mission such as this."

"But, Zuzu –"

"The answer is no, Sakura."

Turning pleading eyes onto her father, she tried again. "Dad? How can I just sit here, knowing they are still out there?"

Jiraiya took a moment to look over her features, then turned to walk out of the shattered window and onto the balcony adjoining the office. Looking out at the endless night slowly giving way to the skies of early morning, he closed his eyes and replied, "The same way I do."

Looking back and forth between her brother and her father, Sakura felt her frustration grow. Turning to make her way out of the office she stopped and said in a voice promising retribution, "Fine. But if they do not come home, believe me, there will be hell to pay." Punching and effectively splintering the wall, she exited the office. "You know where to find me."

After a few moments, the purr of an engine and the screeching of tires upon asphalt could be heard. Both father and son locked eyes. "I think she took that well."

* * *

"It's been a long time, Itachi."

"Hn." Shaking the offered hand, Itachi regarded the other man. "Reggie. It's not always a pleasure."

Reggie grinned. "But it's always business." Looking around for a moment, he wondered aloud, where's Big Blue?"

"He'll be along in a moment," said Itachi, a trace of amusement fleeting over his words.

As if on cue, a loud slap echoed throughout the club. Kisame followed soon after, nursing a slightly purpling mark on his cheek. Sighing he said, "It's hard being so attractive." Slapping a handshake with the man chuckling into his hand, he grinned and said, "It's been a minute, Reg."

"Yeah man, but such is life." Turning to seat himself on a couch, Reggie gestured for the two men to sit. "Is it safe for me to assume that you are here about that grey-haired kid with the glasses."

"On point, as always, Reggie," came the suspiciously satisfied voice of Kisame.

Raising an eyebrow at his partner, Itachi turned, as if to speak to his blue partner, only to slap the back of said man's head instead.

"Glad to know you are enjoying the liquor, Kisame," said Reggie, laughing heartily at the exchange.

"Reginal, kindly do not condone this behavior," came Itachi's irritated voice. "Kisame, we are working."

"Actually, you're working. I just wanted the liquor and the women that our friend here so readily provides."

"It's a club, Kisame. Do show some restraint while we try to gain information."

"I am! I haven't stopped to talk to women yet!"

"You just got slapped."

"Slapped, yes. Rejected, no." Bumping fists with Reggie, he continued. "Like I said, it's hard being this attractive." In a stage whisper, he addressed the curious Reggie, "Old girlfriend." Nodding in complete understanding, Reggie sat back, satisfied with the information.

Feeling a migraine rapidly approaching, Itachi massaged his temples and spoke to Reggie. "Kabuto. Now."

"Manners, Itachi," spoke a mockingly reproachful Kisame.

"Shut up, Kisame."

"Play nice children," scolded a highly amused Reggie. "This kid you're wondering about is a pain in the ass. He comes around, only orders lemonade, and asks questions that he never gets answers to until he's blue in the face. No offense, of course Kisame," he added.

"None taken."

"He wears this grey-ish purple crap all the time. The girls hate him, doesn't leave tip or anything for' em. But my bouncers got the info. He Oro's boy, through and through. Specializes in narcotics and poisons, so watch out for his hands. They're always twitching, like he's ready to mix something up. I've had Deanna draw up a full profile. Should I have that faxed to you?"

"Please see that you do," said Itachi, standing. "Kisame, staying or leaving?"

Pointedly taking a drink from the glass in his hand, "Works over, right?" With a roguish smile adorning his features, he raised the liquor in salute. "Let playtime begin."

Asking God, what he had possibly done to deserve this, Itachi nodded his head to Reggie and left the building. _I believe it's time I pay Rizu a visit. _

_To be continued . . ._

_

* * *

_

**A/N: well, hi! I don't know how many times i rewrote this chapter (for those of you who have been following this from the beginning, you can see the obvious lapse in time) and I STILL don't think i like it. Hmmm *ponder, ponder* However, i do believe that i have neglected to keep readers updated, and for this, I both apologize, and provide you with a new chapter. There is still much more to come, but i find myself trying to find ways to connect these chapters so they do not seem too jumpy. Thank you to all who reviewed and added this story to your alert/favorite list. You guys are AWESOME and you make me keep writing. **

**Leave me love, please! kthxbye!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Last time on Para Bellum . . . **

_Pointedly taking a drink from the glass in his hand, "Works over, right?" With a roguish smile adorning his features, he raised the liquor in salute. "Let playtime begin."_

_Asking God, what he had possibly done to deserve this, Itachi nodded his head to Reggie and left the building. _I believe it's time I pay Rizu a visit.

* * *

The sun blazed high in the sky, its sweltering heat completely unforgiving to the figures in the warehouse garage of the sprawling, yet inconspicuous five-story base of operations of the Red Tears Organization. The sounds of various tools being chosen and tossed back into toolboxes mingled with the pounding beat of the rock music blasting from the speakers in the area. All around the room, articles of clothing were strewn, its occupants instead choosing to work in as close to nothing under the grease and temperature as possible.

At one corner of the room, a young man sat with the frame of what could have once been a classic Harley-Davidson cruiser at his hands. Surrounding him was a cornucopia of parts, and a grease-stained blueprint of what his finished work should look like, with various notes and changes visible upon its pages.

Near the back of the garage, a lounge of sorts housed three figures playing an intense game of cards, infamously known as Bullshit. The stakes, apparently were high, and the coffee table that had definitely seen better days, now housed various items up for gamble: from money to weapons, and even a suspicious plate of brownies.

Cards shielded protectively in his fingers, the first figure slapped down his hand. "Two Jacks." His unruly brown hair fell into brown eyes of playful mischief, eyes that were now watching his two opponents intently, daring them to call him out. The five piercings on his body glinted in the sunlight, as if mocking the others as well. A shake of his head revealed the three silver studs on his ears. His toned torso was exposed, sweat from the heat of the day glistening in sunlight, highlighting the pectorals that held completely still, with the exception of the almost imperceptible jumping of his nipple piercing as he waited for a response. His baggy jeans were dark and smudged with the oil from the various muscle cars that were his responsibility to handle when they were brought to the shop. His construction boots concealed a Gerber combat knife of intimidating size, and were propped up along the side of the coffee table, the absolute picture of relaxation.

"You sure about that, Kotetsu?" asked the figure to his left. The bangs that fell to cover his right eye swished with the movement of turning to look at his friend. Clad only in a white muscle shirt and black denim shorts, his muscled body revealed several tattoos on his right forearm and neck, as well as a sprawling tribal tattoo that began somewhere on his upper back, and ended just past his left elbow. Fingerless gloves adorned his hands and each of these gloves housed at the very least, five easily accessible, dangerously thin blades.

"You could always try your luck and call bullshit, Izumo," came Kotetsu's confident reply. He smirked, tongue darting out to briefly nudge the small piercing on his lip, and sat back to direct his attention to the third person in their game, the one who had yet to speak. Grinning in a way that could only promise trouble, he called over the music, "Shino, what do you think?"

Shino's smirk went unnoticed by the brunette across from him, face hidden behind the cards held in his hands. His hazel eyes too, were hidden behind sunglasses so dark, one wondered how the quiet man could possibly see anything. His shirt, like Kotetsu's was nowhere to be seen and his defined body stood out against the worn black leather sofa he was seated upon. He sported an intricate tattoo of an insect in flight on his pectoral, and his abdominal muscles contracted and expanded, leaving marks upon his pale skin from the blackened gloves resting on his stomach. His spiky hair drooped slightly at the ends in protest of the hot weather even as he uncrossed his long legs to cool off even more. His black shorts were weighed down with many linked chains, all of which were valuable to his strong hands. Looking up, his baritone rang out over the music with minimal effort, "Bullshit, Kotetsu. Pick them up."

Looking at the other man in disbelief, Kotetsu shot out of his seat roaring, "WHAT? I swear he's got a gadget in those damn glasses! What is your secret-" His rant was cut off as a boot hit him square in the back of his head. Whirling to face Izumo, he rubbed his head angrily, "WHAT THE FUCK IZUMO!"

Laughing without an ounce of remorse, Izumo slid the butterfly knives on the table over to Shino, along with three of the brownies. "I do believe these are yours now, Shino."

Smirking, Shino dipped his head and began munching on one of the brownies, "Much appreciated. Game over, Kotetsu. Have a brownie." He slid the plate over, "Take a load off you overgrown mummy."

Plopping down in defeat, Kotetsu threw his cards on the table and grabbed a handful of the brownies, mourning the loss of his butterfly knives.

"Um, Kotetsu, maybe you should slow down on . . . the . . . " he stopped mid-sentence as Kotetsu turned to him doing a fairly accurate impression of a chipmunk. Shaking his head he sighed. "Never mind."

"Chill out, Izumo," drifted Shino's voice, sounding significantly more relaxed. "There's only, like, a quarter of the bag in the brownies."

"You put a quarter of that big ass bag of weed in the brownies?"

"Uh . . . no?"

"Oh, this will _not_ end well . . ."

"Izumo, look!" Startled, Izumo turned to look at his hopeless friend. "It's a pink unicorn!"

Palming his face, Izumo cursed whatever deity saw fit to leave him with a best friend that could not handle weed in any of its glorious forms. In his brooding, he never noticed the figure walking into the garage.

A voice of velvet called out with authority, "Where is Rizu?"

Shino quietly studied the character in front of his. He was sure many of the women in his life would consider him tall dark and handsome, but there was something more deeply intriguing about this stranger than just his appearance.

"Who cares to know?" asked Izumo, also eyeing the stranger before him.

"Uchiha." Shino said, answering his friend's question. "What is it that you require, exactly?" He asked, arching a brow in inquiry.

"I ordered a case of nitrous last week for a Ducati Multistrada 1200 S," he replied. "I simply wish to know of the progress of its delivery."

"He's not here," Izumo said, the edge in his voice lessening, but not completely disappearing, either. "Check with Saku out front. She may be able to help you."

Quirking an eyebrow, Itachi turned away from the three at the table to instead walk towards the area where the music was loudest. A 1965 Mustang Shelby was parked near the hanger entrance to the garage, and Itachi narrowly avoided a wrench thrown from whoever was working under the hood. Leaning against a tire rack to his left, he waited for the form to realize his presence.

* * *

_I wonder how long he's going to stand there, _Sakura thought. She was already irked. After her early morning fiasco with her father and brother, she had only stopped to change into a pair of her brother's old baggy shorts, too small for him now, but still quite large on her slender form, and a white muscle shirt with worn work boots. She headed straight back for the base, only to collapse into the one place she had always spent the majority of her time when she was younger – the garage.

This garage was so filled to the brim with memories. She'd had her first kiss here. Her first serious fight outside of the training room's walls. It was here that she'd built her first bike, and it was also here that she'd always felt at peace. It was her sanctuary – where others had the sound of waves crashing upon a beach, she had the unforgiving beat of blasting music mixed with the clang of tools that would always be found in an auto garage. And she loved it.

But there was something new to her sanctuary - Some unforeseen element that made this entire place just tingle with the promise of things to come, as if a foreshadowing of some great event to come. She had slept only to clear her mind of the thoughts that plagued her, of the loved ones her father and brother had so callously forbade her from attempting to retrieve. Then, as the first rays of sun filtered into the garage, the music went on, the hanger went up, and with her gloves on, she threw herself into her work, easing away the tension with every twist of her wrist.

Sakura knew the boys had come in some time ago. Kotetsu had swept her up into one of the twirling bear hugs he was famous for giving. Izumo, like the older brother she had always considered him to be, slapped straight into the complicated handshake they had forged all those years ago. And Shino, with his ever-subtle sensuality had lifted her hand to his lips in a delicate greeting that had won him a smile that threatened to split her face in half. Amidst all of this, Noba sat quietly back, allowing the reunion of the friends to happen before stepping forward and pulling his best friend into a hug. It had been years, and the redhead was never one for mushy moments, so he pulled away after a small kiss planted on her forehead, then proceeded to park himself right near her as he worked on his Harley.

As the hours stretched and the sun climbed higher, the garage gradually became hotter. She paused in her work only to accept a beer from Noba and to strip off her shirt, leaving her in only her shorts, gloves, and sports bra. Again, Sakura lost herself in her work, but she was not so deaf as to not hear unfamiliar footfalls on the concrete nearing her over the music of Avenged Sevenfold's lead guitarist, Synyster Gates. It had been a full six minutes now, and the owner of the black boots in her peripheral vision had yet to make an attempt to initiate any sort of conversation.

Thoroughly agitated that whoever it was had also sidestepped her wrench, she growled out, "Do you plan on telling me just what I can help you with at _any_ time in the near future?"

"I was simply waiting for you to acknowledge my presence," was the reply.

Sakura's hands stilled for the briefest of moments in replacing the belts of the car. The strangers voice was smooth and rich like velvet, as if caressing her very soul with its cadence. Realization then dawned on her in the middle of her appreciation for his voice that he – had he just implied that _he_ was awaiting _her _acknowledgement? _Oh, hell no._

"Look, I don't know who the hell you are," she began angrily, finally emerging from the car's systems. She whirled to face whoever it was that thought themselves special enough to disrupt her time. "But you have got some damn nerve, thinking you could come in here, and just assume control. This is _my _domain. Act appropriately when in my presence or I promise you, I can make things very difficult whenever else you come here."

At some time during her rant, she had realized that his face was strikingly familiar. His long inky locks were not at all out of place, even in the sweltering heat, and his grey muscle shirt and low-slung jeans alluded to a strong, muscled form of pure sin. But it was his eyes, blood red and lethal in their beauty that called to her. _He's the same guy from the club, _she realized with a start. _Why the hell are all the attractive ones assholes?_

Raising an elegant brow at her words, Itachi began speaking, slowly, as if speaking to a spoiled child. "Considering it is my modification that I came in search for, I rather do believe I am in control here. Now, where is this 'Saku' I need to speak with? Apparently my regular connect, Rizu, isn't available today."

She couldn't believe it. Just _what_ had she done to deserve this?

* * *

He couldn't believe it. Just _what _had he done to deserve this?

After leaving Kisame at Reggie's to inevitably get stone-faced drunk, Itachi had gone home to change clothes in preparation for picking up his bike modification. Instead of finding his brother where he had left him, there was a rumpled sheet on the couch, his bedroom door ajar, and a note on the refrigerator, saying _Gone to buy tomatoes. –S._

Just where the hell his brother would find tomatoes at four in the morning, he would never know, but it was of no consequence. He did realize, however that it was way too early to venture to the garage where Rizu, his link between all of his imported parts, would no doubt be. So, knowing sleep was hopeless, he had gone to the recreational room of his apartment, where he found he could use nothing but the treadmill. He had his amazing partner, Kisame, and their (at least, in his opinion) mentally challenged colleague, Deidara, to thank for that, after a particularly interesting episode with weights, mayonnaise, and lots of alcohol.

With a world-weary sigh, Itachi cursed his luck, wondering why fate hated him so much. All he wanted to do was lift some weights, was that seriously so much to ask?

A few hours later, Kisame had stumbled into the apartment, barely able to stop himself from crashing straight to the floor from the lift. Itachi supported his weight with a roll of his eyes to the couch, and continued making pancakes. Grabbing a plate, he took a few, left some for Sasuke, and began to eat, just for his ungrateful otouto to come and complain about why he couldn't wait for his return to begin eating.

He had spent the rest of the morning going over the documents Reggie had faxed over, and now here was this slip of a girl, telling him off, like she was someone important.

Then again, he supposed she was.

This was the same girl from the club, with the voice that almost made him want to lose himself in its stories. She was the singer with the legs that went on forever, the one with the fiery emerald orbs that were only emphasized by her sunset-pink hair. Here she stood, defiant before him, her toned flat stomach glistening with sweat and smeared grease from working with the car. In her back pocket hung a red rag stained with oil wiped from her hands that only served to draw his rapt attention to her curves. Her ample chest heaved from her ire at him and he could only find himself slightly irritated at the problem she posed, for the sight she made was quite the reward.

Her next words only served to fascinate him further.

"And the name is Sakura to you," she continued. "'Saku' is a name reserved for those who I actually know and am fond of." Her eyes coursed over his face again, finally coming to a rest on his eyes. "And who, are you?"

* * *

Pushing himself away from the tire rack, Itachi decided to humor her. It would only prevent a larger headache, after all. Walking within inches of her body, close enough that she could hear him with no problem over the sounds of the drum solo pouring from the speakers, he spoke. "The name is Uchiha Itachi, Sakura." Inwardly, Sakura detested how absolutely entangled she felt herself becoming in this man's voice. "I'm hoping you can help me with what I need."

_Hon, I will help you with _all_ you need,_ Sakura's traitorous thoughts voiced. Bringing herself back to reality, she pulled off her gloves and threw them on a rack of tools. Turning, she motioned for him to follow her to the office where she could check his order. As the pair passed the coffee table where her friends were seated, Izumo gave a low whistle.

"Taking him to the back already, Saku?" He grinned with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Damn, you work fast girl!"

Flipping him off and continuing on her way, Sakura gestured for Itachi to have a seat in front of the desk. Quickly checking the touch-screen desktop of the computer in front of her, Sakura located the order, slightly taken aback that such a large order had been paid in full – in cash. Looking back over to the man across from her, she locked eyes with him again before getting down to business. "You're in luck," she began. "Your order arrived thirty six hours ago, fully strapped and ready to go for one Ducati Multistrada." Producing the necessary paperwork for him to sign, she asked, "Will you be needing that installed for you or is that all?"

His eyes looked up to meet hers, and then down at his watch. With a sigh, he realized he didn't have the time he needed to finish installing the nitrous himself, transport the extra back to the apartment, and then get to his meeting in time. "Under normal circumstances, I would be doing the installation myself. However, it seems time has slipped away from me. Would it be too much trouble to get them installed here? I have the bike in the truck."

Dismissing the thought of denying him out of spite for his earlier transgressions, she shook her head. "It won't be a problem. Just let me unload the tanks I will need from your set, and then I'll load the rest into your truck and get to work."

Satisfied, Itachi rose to walk her to the storage room and helped her take down the carton with 'FRAGILE' emblazoned in red letters on all sides. At his questioning look, Sakura smiled sheepishly, "We've uh . . . had some accidents with those goons out front at the table. They're harmless though, don't worry." _Well, _she thought. _As harmless as anyone from our organization can get, that is. _

Itachi said nothing, knowing fully well that trusting blindly could get him killed.

* * *

" . . . Can I keep it?"

A smirk found its way to Itachi's lips as he observed the young woman. It was amusing, yes, to see the reverence with which Sakura handled his beloved Ducati. He knew he had left the vehicle in capable hands. The images that her admiration for the motorcycle had conjured in his mind however left him feeling slightly warmer than he could blame on the sun. Her awestruck question had quickly pulled him out of his thoughts.

"No," Itachi said, amusement clear in his voice.

"Please?"

"No," he said again.

" . . . Can I ride it?"

Well, shit. _That_ particular question left him even warmer than the first images he had thought up, new ones rushing to replace them. Her wrapped around him as they zoomed through the city streets. Her in those same dangerous heels she wore to the club, crouched low, working on the bike in shorts and maybe even that sports bra she had on at the moment –

_No, _he stopped those thoughts immediately. _Focus._

Looking back at the pinkette, those emerald eyes fixed on his own scarlet ones, he sighed in defeat. "I'll think about it." Her smile of victory almost made him change his mind, but he had other business to attend to. "When can I expect to pick up the bike?"

Still running her hands over the red and black beauty in front of her, she spoke as if she couldn't pay attention to anything else. "It'll be ready by tonight. I'll be here till maybe 1:30. Feel free to stop by anytime between midnight and that time."

With a nod, Itachi was not sure she saw, he turned to walk out the way he came. "It was a pleasure, Sakura."

Her voice drifted to his ears, "The pleasure was definitely mine, Itachi."

With a smirk, Itachi left the garage, intent on returning in time to see his bike and this intriguing woman for a second time that day.

* * *

The sound of the door opening brought a halt to the meeting taking place in the well-furnished study of Yogen Pein's sprawling home. Hypnotic eyes reminiscent of one caught in spiraling madness look towards the figure that had now seated himself at the table amongst his comrades.

Orange hair swishing, he addressed the newcomer, "I trust you have a good reason for why you are late Itachi." He arched a brow, looking the silent man over, "It is unlike you to not be punctual."

"There was a pressing matter that needed to be dealt with," replied Itachi, gaze never wavering from Pein's.

"Would this matter have anything to do with that brother of yours now taking residence in your apartment?"

"Aw fuck," came a new voice, the owner known infamously in the gathered group as the resident foul-mouthed, accident-prone, trouble magnet of Akatsuki, Masaki Hidan. Rolling his pink eyes to the ceiling and slicking his white hair back with a hand, he looked over to Itachi. "The brat is back? Really? I thought the asshole ran off to be dick buddies with the pedophile!"

Locking the man with a glare as heated as the sun blazing outside, Itachi hissed out, "You will refrain from calling my brother by anything but his name, Hidan."

"Yeah, I'm the only one allowed to do that!" came Kisame's voice, clearly recovered from his stint at Reggie's club the previous night. "Where you been though, I didn't even hear when you left."

"You were drunk off your ass, yeah," retorted a new voice. Katsuhiko Deidara's face showed his mirth, and his long hair did nothing to hide his grin as he taunted the other man. "You had to call me just cause you were out of Advil – ow, what the HELL, danna?"

"Leader is trying to speak, Deidara," replied the cool voice of Takahiro Sasori. The redhead fixed his jade eyes on Pein. "Do try to show some respect, for once. Your art may actually improve."

Interjecting just as Deidara was about to lash out, Pein took control once again. "Thank you, Sasori." Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed. There was definitely a migraine coming on. "Itachi's whereabouts are of no consequence to this meeting. He is here now, and we shall begin." Fixing Deidara and Hidan with pointed looks of disapproval, he continued. "And there _will_ be _no_ interruptions."

With both members settling down with exaggerated indifference and much scoffing, Pein proceeded to speak. "As you all know, Orochimaru has once again resurfaced, although as of yet, he has not shown his face, preferring instead to send out known henchman, Yakushi Kabuto, to complete tasks." A cough that sounded suspiciously like "pussy" sounded from a corner of the room. Continuing on unperturbed, Pein began to wish that having the best in an organization did not mean having the most immature. "I am sure you are also all familiar with the RTO –"

"The Red Tears?" interrupted Deidara. "What do they have to do with us? We work solo!"

"Moving _on, _Deidara," Pein said with a glare. "There are only two members of this organization, excluding myself, who know the detail that the Akatsuki was born from the RTO. Deidara, _shut up."_ Shrinking back into his seat, said blonde turned his pout to the wall. "Uchiha Itachi, Hoshigaki Kisame, and myself, are all former members of the special operations unit of the RTO. After two years in their service, we broke away and recruited the rest of you miscreants." The aforementioned miscreants were now staring at their leader in varying stages of shock. "Although we are not employed by the RTO in any way, we do, grudgingly, owe them a debt in the training and connections we received. As such, Akatsuki is now the sole sister organization of the Red Tears. We will begin to hold meetings both here, as well as –"

"Oh _hell _no."

"Are you fucking kidding me, yeah?"

"Really, leader, sometimes I wonder."

" . . . I need a drink."

The outbursts came simultaneously, each and every member having something to say about this sudden merge. Surveying the madness around him, Itachi smirked to himself. This would definitely be interesting. Although his membership with the infamous Red Tears Organization had indeed been brief, he had formed important bonds with many of the agents there. He was particularly intrigued by this development; it would certainly serve his purposes well. After all, Rizu and his ridiculous hair had once been his partner in all thing reconnaissance, and there was no doubt in his mind that a certain pinkette also worked at the same garage that Rizu did.

Leaning over to Pein, who had long since given up on any attempt at regaining control of his unruly group, Itachi said lowly, "It would seem that this meeting is adjourned, is it not, leader?"

Cursing whatever deity it was that saw fit to place him in this position, Pein answered, "You already have your assignment Itachi. You may go."

With a nod and a glance in the direction of the others, Itachi slipped out the door, not unnoticed by his roommate's eyes.

* * *

The sight that greeted Rizu as he walked into the garage was nothing short of disastrous. His baby sister was wearing no clothes (never mind the fact that it was 97 degrees outside), Nova had at least twenty discarded beer bottles around him (regardless of the fact that he was still diligently working on the cruiser), and one-third of his street team was high out of his mind (. . . well, you can't win them all).

Striding over to the music control to the left of the lounge, Rizu shut off the system entirely.

"WHO THE FUCK –"

"I LEAVE YOU FOR A FEW HOURS, AND MY GARAGE IS IN CHAOS? AND YOU HAVE THE AUDACITY TO YELL AT ME?" Advancing on his sister, Rizu threw his keys to the side, effectively knocking out Izumo. Great, now two-thirds of his street team were down for the count. "WHY THE HELL AREN'T YOU WEARING ANY CLOTHES?"

Outraged that her brother – the _asshole_ – had the nerve to storm in while she was jamming and touch her – _fucking expensive – _stereo system, only to turn around and scream on her – how fucking _dare_ he? – for having on as little as possible in this weather, Sakura threw her gloves off and met her fuming sibling halfway. "DUMB _ASS_, IT IS FUCKING HOT! THAT'S WHAT PEOPLE DO WHEN IT'S HOT AND THEY WORK IN A GARAGE, THEY TAKE OFF CLOTHES!"

"DON'T YOU RAISE YOUR VOICE AT ME! AND PUT SOME CLOTHES ON!" Rizu shouted back, only inches away from Sakura's face. Pushing him back and waving her arms about her wildly, she screamed back. "YEAH, COME AND DEMAND I PUT CLOTHES ON, WHEN YOU WALK IN HERE SHIRTLESS, LIKE YOU'RE THE GODS' GIFT TO THIS EARTH!"

"GO PUT SOME CLOTHES ON!"

"GO FUCK YOURSELF!"

"Uh, excuse me, Saku, Rizu – "

"_WHAT?"_ both siblings yelled, now facing a very amused, yet slightly disturbed, Shino. Chuckling to himself, he handed Rizu the phone, "It's the boss."

Taking a moment and a deep breath, Rizu calmed himself down and answered the phone, "Hey, dad."

"Zuzu, we need to talk. My office, ten minutes. Don't bring Saku, she doesn't need to know of this yet."

"Understood." Handing the phone back to Shino, He turned to his sister who was still giving him the look of death. "Turn the music down some. And call Reggie, see if he can have someone sent over to fix the air conditioning."

Smiling in triumph, Sakura hugged her brother goodbye. "I'll call him later gotta finish something," she said, pointing to the motorcycle she had abandoned in her . . .. discussion with her brother. "He's a client of yours, I handled the paperwork, don't worry."

Slightly taken aback at the vehicle, Rizu simply nodded and turned to leave. He would talk to his sister about its owner later. Right now, he needed to see his father.

Shino watched as Rizu retrieved his keys from amidst Izumo's hair. Shaking his head, he told Sakura, "I will never understand how you and your brother settle business."

"You wouldn't," she said with a smile. "It's a pink thing." Winking at her friend, she went back to work.

* * *

The day passed with surprising quickness. Shikamaru had called, making sure she was staying out of mischief, as 'it would have been troublesome to come and bail her out.' He called again asking her to come over later that night, but Sakura declined, knowing she would be leaving late. The boys had finally sobered up and cleaned up their mess some hours ago, only to look for a party to basically do the same thing all over again. Nova had left quietly, taking the trash with him, as most of it was his anyway. Rizu had not come back for the night at all, and Sakura was finally left truly alone with her thoughts.

She was still righteously upset with her family for forbidding her to retrieve the lost agents. They were her family, everyone in the organization was. She had not left for three years, jut to come back and be told she couldn't even protect anyone. She had grown up playing pranks and causing trouble with Naruto and Kiba, always leaving Kakashi with the blame, as any good babysitter would take. Her heart yearned to defy her orders and go anyway, but more than being her boss, Jiraiya was her father, and like it or not, she could not disobey him. The sound of a car door shutting pulled her from her thoughts. Looking over to the door, Sakura watched as Itachi strolled inside in all f his feline grace and confidence.

"I took very good care of your baby," she said, standing up to approach the bike. Running her hand over it lovingly, she gave her report. "The nitrous is installed, and your engage I updated. All you have to do is press the button. I gave her a routine check and a wash, too. Everything is in working order, and she's ready to go." Finally looking up, having gotten no response, she found Itachi watching her intently.

"Thank you," he said finally. He walked closer and swung a leg over the back of the bike. "Of course, you understand that after a routine check, I have to test her out."

Waving her hand, Sakura began to turn back to the couch. "Yeah sure, whatever. Do what you gotta do, then I'll load her up when you're done."

Catching her wrist before she could walk away, Itachi pulled her back to face him. Searching her eyes for a moment, and smirking at the wariness he found in them, he dangled his keys in his other hand.

"Wanna ride?"

_To be continued . . ._

_

* * *

_**A/N: Well, my dears, it has certainly been a while! (You can blame AP tests, finals, and all things senior-in-high-school-related for the delay)**

**Hopefully, I have made up for my absence with this nice long chapter for you. Finally, they meet! A little bit of chemistry brewing there but not much more than that, just yet. I do believe I still have plans for this tidbit of ShikaSaku i have going here, teehee.**

**My reviewers! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT! Angel897, I am glad you're enjoying it and will do my best to continue writing; I ve Landed, I am honored that i have succeeded in passing your expectations, and yes. Ducati = vehicle for a sexy beast *cough* Itachi *cough*; Ishala8, well I am glad that thus far, you are enjoying it, and I hope you stay with me through the end; Akatsuki Sakura Uchiha, my kinda story too! Idk if you're an Inuyasha fan, but i would definitely recommend the story Laying Down the Law; Frozen Darkness, here you go!; mmmsizzle, glad you like it!; Fye-sama, you rock dude, thanks for reading; Self Proclaimed Penguin Queen, I love you more!; The Reviewer Known As Name, that name rocks, firstly. secondly, glad you like it!**

**Summer's here, so I hope to be able to update faster. See you soon! Ta Ta For Now!**


	5. Chapter 5

_**Previously on Para Bellum…**_

_Catching her wrist before she could walk away, Itachi pulled her back to face him. Searching her eyes for a moment, and smirking at the wariness he found in them, he dangled his keys in his other hand. _

"_Wanna ride?"_

* * *

Itachi was pissed.

And the scene that greeted him upon entering his flat did _not _help the situation. At all.

Disregarding the distinctive smell of Granddaddy Kush permeating his home, he threw his keys into the dish on his living room table along with his cell phone. Stepping over Kisame's prone form in the doorway to his kitchen, he made a beeline for the refrigerator in desperate need of cutting something, anything. Pushing aside the two six-packs of beer blocking the meat drawer, he pulled out the large cuts of steak he had been storing and set them on the counter just as a loud crash signaled Deidara's unceremonious departure from the couch and onto the floor.

"Fucking _ouch, _yeah…"

Before anything else could be said, a knife embedded itself into the floor right where Deidara's hand rested to cradle his head. Startled to attention, he attempted to scramble up, only to trip over his own feet and attempt to break his fall back onto the floor. Now fully awake, he continued to dodge the assault of knives bombarding him until finally he was standing and able to catch the final projectile in his hand. Tracing the trajectory of the blade, his eyes came to rest on Itachi calmly dicing the steak in the kitchen.

"Itachi, yeah, what the hell was that for?"

Not pausing in his movements at all, Itachi pointedly surveyed the chaos in his living room again: various Xbox games scattered on the floor, decorated with an array of popcorn, Cheetos, and beer caps. There was an interesting stain on his dark blue carpet, his best friend was comatose in the doorway, and for the past ten minutes, his stereo had been skipping on the same infuriating line from Paramore's lead singer. Bringing his eyes back to a sheepish Deidara, he raised an eyebrow before turning his attention back to preparing the food.

"Well, okay. It did get a little crazy, yeah."

"Hn. Clean it up. Move Kisame first."

Grumbling, Deidara bent to haul Kisame over his shoulders. Standing upright, he staggered for a moment under the shark man's massive size and paused to look at Itachi still busily preparing the steak. Glancing at the clock, he asked carefully, " . . . Hey 'Tachi?"

"Hn."

"Why are you in chef mode at 4 in the morning?"

Cleanly slicing another strip of meat and tossing it into the bowl next to him with as much calm as a tiger attacking its prey, Itachi continued his task, not bothering to grace his partner with an answer.

His fight-or-flight instinct coming into play, Deidara backed out of the kitchen quickly, smacking Kisame's head on the doorframe in the process. "Ah shit," he cursed, inspecting the scratch on the man's head and readjusting his weight. "Well, he was going to have a hangover anyways . . ."

Shuffling down the hallway to deposit on the bed, the next twenty minutes passed in relative silence as Deidara emerged with a large black garbage bag and finally cut the stereo off. Stealing a glance at Itachi's form, still focused on seasoning the fresh cuts of meat, he debated the wisdom of trying to get answers out of the other man.

Contrary to popular belief, Deidara was no fool, and he valued his life. As an artist, he tended to pick up on details that many others missed, such as Itachi's earlier departure from the meeting and the hidden tension in the man's current position. As the Akatsuki's explosive expert, he understood the intricacies of timing. Like any minefield, one wrong step around the Uchiha would at the very least cost him a limb if he weren't careful. Hyper and vocal about almost everything though he may be, he was analytical at the worst of times. And right now, Deidara was certain that meat and the sight of the usual aftermath of a night with Kisame was the farthest thing from his teammate's mind.

Tying off the garbage bag and heading to the kitchen to wash his hands, he decided to test his luck. "So, you left the meeting pretty early, yeah." he began. "You didn't even stay long enough to see Leader hit Hidan with the paperweight we got him last Christmas." No response. "I think he's kinda disappointed he didn't even crack it though. We all know he only keeps it around because of Konan." Itachi moved across the room to plastic wrap the bowl for the next day. Deidara changed tactics. "Saw Kabuto today."

Itachi's eyes immediately fixed on the blonde. Deidara continued at the silent question. "He looks like a junkie now. Worse than the last time any of us saw him. His hands do this freaky little twitchy thing, yeah." He paused to fill a glad with some orange juice. "Deanna was with me, she'd just left Reggie's, so we went to grab a bite. He was across the street from the café, arguing with the pharmacist." At this, Itachi raised an eyebrow. Deidara's romantic interests were nothing of interest, but if Reggie's right hand were with him, perhaps she would be able to update the sketches the club had sent over.

But why was Yakushi arguing with a pharmacist of all people? Regardless of his vices, Kabuto was one of the most skilled herbalists on their side of the world. He was infamous for his poisons, and would probably be earning a fortune in the narcotics he made if he weren't so devoted to the snake. Before Orochimaru had gotten his hands on him, Kabuto had already cornered a serious chunk of the drug trade, cutting a lot of expenses by distributing his own product. Once he hooked up with the monster, he lost himself – under Orochimaru's influence he became paranoid, started disposing of everyone around him and using himself as a test subject for his drugs instead. Surprisingly enough, the quality improved and demand for his brand only increased. Talent was not something the character lacked, so why bother with a pharmacist?

Reading Itachi's thoughts correctly for once, Deidara tilted his head in the direction of the study. "Did a quick check on the doc, yeah. Nothing suspicious." Nodding his head at the other man, Itachi turned to wash the dishes. "Good call. I'll look over those files this afternoon." Noticing that Deidara had not moved, despite his dismissal, Itachi cast him a sidelong glance. "Was there something else?"

Hesitating for a moment, Deidara brought his eyes to Itachi's. "I… Look, I'm not going to act as if I know what's going on in that head of yours. Not sure if I would wanna know even if given the chance, yeah. But I do know that there is no coincidence that your brother showed up when he did." Itachi's gaze hardened at this, but Deidara barreled on. "He's young and impulsive, but he's a good kid, yeah. One who has always been a wild card as far as loyalties go. There is only so much you can protect him from. I'm not saying don't, because you're gonna protect him regardless, I know. Just, don't forget to protect yourself too."

With his piece said, the lanky man finished his juice and slid the glass over to the sink. With a wave tossed carelessly over his shoulder, he walked towards the door. Opening it, he called out, "Get some sleep, yeah. You look like shit."

The door closed behind him, and with a sigh, Itachi shut the water off and rested his forearms on the counter, dropping his head down onto them for a moment. He hated when Deidara was logical. Shit was confusing. He couldn't deny the truth in his words though. Itachi had always, however indirectly, made sure to keep an eye on his brother in an attempt to protect him from all the horrors the life he lead held for his family. When he and Sasuke had left home as children, there was no one to protect them. Itachi took on the role with a fierceness and dedication that few people could ever achieve. And despite it all, he was somehow failing. He thought that leaving him with Shisui when he joined the Red Tears would've been the best way to keep Sasuke away from all the violence and darkness of his profession, but it seemed his foolish little brother had taken even that for granted.

Running a hand through his hair, Itachi sighed again. _Shisui, _he thought, allowing brief wave of grief washing over him in the solace of his home. His cousin was the only family member Itachi had kept constant communication with after the news of his mother's passing had reached him. When he was fourteen and Sasuke seven, he had entrusted Shisui with watching over his little brother. They had already been on their own for a year, and his cousin, having just moved into an apartment of his own, was the only person in the world Itachi trusted at that point. Choosing the organization over his brother had been a hard decision, but it was easy money. _Or so I thought. Tch, never thought that this would last this long, _he mused shaking his head, _or end up going so wrong. _Thirteen years later, he was, for the first time in his life, at a loss of what to do. His cousin was gone, Sasuke was entangled in nefarious affairs involving the one person he had been trying to shield him from for years, and suddenly his team was going back to their roots with the Red Tears.

Memories of training and lessons with Rizu and Jiraiya flooded his mind. Jiraiya, for all his carefree nature, was a drill instructor when it came to workouts and endurance, a sadist when it came to punishment, and a middle school principal whenever Rizu managed to rope his partner into some sort of mischievous scheme. _That pink-haired menace always had something up his sleeve, _Itachi recalled with a hint of amusement.

Pink hair. Never would he have anticipated that he would have more than one person to associate that particular trait. He smirked at the face that came to mind, eyes of viridian that seemed to be perpetually narrowed in either challenge or anger, and full lips that promised a taste of heaven. Her body, on the other hand, was one built for sin, and it seemed the minx knew just how to use it to her advantage.

* * *

_Flashback_

"_Wanna ride?"_

_Looking down at her wrist captured in the hand of this intriguing man and then to the gorgeous motorcycle he was seated on, she allowed a sultry smile to slowly grace her features. Pulling away from his grasp, she walked towards the large doors shielding the hangar from the chilly night air. Opening the farthest of the three doors to her right with the touch of a button, she finally turned to face him with her answer. _

"_Sorry hun, but I can't get on the back of a bike like that with just anyone," she said with a smirk as she picked up a set of keys. "I bet you probably wouldn't know how to handle that thing between your between your legs well enough to even win against a Yamaha." _

_Sensing the challenge in her stance, Itachi quirked an eyebrow at her arrogance and the obvious innuendo. Surely she did not mean to race him? He almost laughed outright at the mere thought that this little slip of a woman, more than a head shorter than him now that she was no longer in those precarious heels she had worn at the bar, could possibly best him in a motorcycle race. With the modified 6-valve engine he had specially constructed for his bike and his last top speed having been recorded at 173 mph, his beloved vehicle had ensured that he had never seen anyone's brake lights in a race. There was no way that this girl even stood a chance, but something deep inside him was calling for him to accept the challenge. She had worked on his bike, likely seeing the improved specifications, and she still wanted to test her luck? He smirked._

_He would try not to beat her too soundly. _

"_Little girl, you wouldn't know what to do with yourself if you saw just how well I can handle everything-," looking down at his bike and then back at her, he smirked. "-between my legs."_

_Flushing a brilliant scarlet color at his words, Sakura grinned in spite of herself. Walking out of the door towards a storm white Yamaha FZ1 with pink and red petals accenting the smooth curves along the engine and sides of the vehicle. Sliding her key into the ignition, she tossed him a look over her shoulder. "You coming or not? Let's see what you're working with."_

_His response was to start his engine and pull up next to her beneath the streetlights. Slipping his helmet on over his head, he fastened it beneath his chin and flipped the visor up to look at her as he asked, "Where to?"_

"_Three-mile drive through the backstreets of the city 'til we hit the bridge," she said looking at him through her own helmet. "Can you handle that?"_

"_Can you?" he said flipping his visor down. _

_She didn't respond, opting to turn her head to the traffic light in front of them. At well past midnight, there was no one else on the quiet street that housed the garage. The revving of engines broke the silence of the night, and as the light turned green, the pair sped off with the roar of their bikes and an excited laugh from the pink haired rider on the left. _

_Making a sharp right after the next traffic light, Sakura immediately swerved to the right to avoid the car coming straight down the street towards her. Itachi was right alongside her, now on her left, and separated as they accelerated on a car in front of their path. Saluting to Sakura before he revved his engine and sped off, Itachi allowed himself a small smirk. _This is cake, _he chuckled. _It's like she's trying to _let_ me wi-

_His thoughts were abruptly cut short by the Sakura zooming past him in a blur of white on the sidewalk, of all places, taking a hard left back into traffic and down the next backstreet, weaving between carloads of late-night partygoers as she went. Growling to himself, he sped up; narrowly dodging traffic as he broke two lights in quick succession and catching up to the woman with practiced ease. In sync, they made the next right turn into the warehouse district. _

_With a straight shoot ahead of them until the final turn, Itachi hit the nitrous and zoomed off, losing sight of Sakura a second time. Seeing this, Sakura smiled to herself in triumph. _Too soon hun, _she thought to herself. Speeding up a ramp ahead of her, she cleared the jump and landed right behind Itachi as they came upon the last turn. The moment they were on the final stretch, she released her nitrous, the extra boost pushing her past Itachi and straight over the bridge just as a call came in through her helmet's Bluetooth. _

"_Sakura, I need you at the office," her brother's voice spoke in her ear. _

"_Copy that, bro. See you in ten," she responded, ending the call and riding up to come along next to Itachi. "Maybe next time, rookie. Gotta run." With a smirk and another roar of her engine, she pulled off again, the entire front of the Yamaha raised in a wheelie of triumph over the dark man. _

_Hitting the brakes, Itachi slowed to a stop. Dumbfounded, his eyes followed Sakura down the road until she turned onto the main road, merging with traffic. He had been beaten by a cheeky, arrogant little girl, and then ditched. _Oh, this is not over, little one,_ he thought. Inwardly impressed, a predatory smile came unbidden to his face. _This is going to be fun.

* * *

Smirking to himself again, Itachi pushed away from the counter and sauntered down the hallway towards his room. Before anything else happened, he needed to sleep and research this pharmacist's connection to Orochimaru and Kabuto.

Pink-haired distractions with bodies built for sin would have to wait.

* * *

Unaware of the gauntlet that had just been thrown down, Sakura walked into her father's office and stopped dead in her tracks at the sight that greeted her.

Behind a new mahogany desk sat her father with reading glasses on, calmly looking over what she assumed to be potential missions and intelligence documents. To his right stood her brother, splashes of dark red stains adorning his otherwise pristine form (his hair, of course, remained free of blood, as did his face and hands). And in front of the desk sat none other than Yogen Pein, infamous leader of the Akatsuki. To her knowledge, his numbers in everything were impressive: body count, piercings, international contacts, and organization net worth. He was a man that prided himself on keeping a small circle and was notorious for his insistence on privacy. Yet here he was.

Assuming this was a formal meeting, Sakura dropped to one knee in front of her father's desk, just slightly behind and to the right of Pein's seat. "_Ippan_," she greeted, head bowed in respect of his position as the head of the organization, in accordance with the by-laws.

"Acknowledged, Haruno. Rise and have a seat," he said, eyes flicking quickly to his guest. "We have much to discuss."

Taking a seat next to Pein, Sakura focused her gaze on her father waiting for him to speak. Picking up a spoon filled with red melted wax sitting over the flame of a candle, Jiraiya poured the liquid onto a now folded parchment. Removing his ring with the organization's crest from his pinky finger, he pressed it against the wax, sealing the document. He finally looked up and handed the paper over to Pein. Without a word, the man pocketed the document and proceeded to focus on Jiraiya again.

"Haruno, as you well know, Orochimaru is once again our target objective. Approximately two and a half months ago, operatives Inuzuka and Uzumaki were dispatched for a reconnaissance mission under operative Hatake, at what we suspected to be Orochimaru's base of operations. Their mission was to infiltrate the base, gather information whilst planting Intelligence Dispatcher tags that would send information back here, and lastly, to monitor the movement of the henchmen for any evidence to other hideouts.

"As of last month, we have lost all communication with these operatives. The planting of the I.D. tags, while successful, have since been providing looped images, and I have no choice but to officially declare the mission aborted and the operatives M.I.A." At this, Sakura's eyes hardened and her fists clenched in her lap. Screw her orders; she wanted to bring her boys home. Jiraiya, picking up on the subtle increase in tension in the room continued on in a detached voice. "I am hereby declaring Freeze Orders, effective immediately. The Akatsuki has been declared a sister organization and all of their members are to be received by RTO operatives as such. They are thusly granted full access to our base of operations, records and databases, and training facilities. Mission requests as well as team variety will also, from here on include them, should the situation arise. These same orders are given for Akatsuki members.

"Furthermore, total reinstation and recall of all RTO operatives is mandated as of 1900 hours this evening. Any operative not present for roll call at that time without express permission or notification is subject to termination. Haruno, consider your previous orders revised. As of this moment, you are tasked with building and training an elite mixed team: members of Akatsuki and RTO operatives alike. Your first mission is retrieval. Recover operatives Hatake, Uzumaki, and Inuzuka, as well as any and all information gathered in their absence. Dismantle the hideout, and leave no evidence. Nothing is to get in your way. Once the missing operatives have been found, your previous orders are to be carried out immediately, and you will then see to the safe return of your team. You have two weeks to get them combat ready. Understood?"

A beat of silence passed through the room. _There is more to this that he is not telling me, _Sakura thought to herself with her eyes narrowed. _Something doesn't add up. This is a classic mission for Rizu's training. Why the hell is he giving me this? Not that I would stay put with those three out in the field, but still… I've got a bad feeling about this. _Releasing a breath, Sakura nodded her assent. "I accept."

Nodding back, Jiraiya handed Sakura a manila folder, as did Pein. For the first time, he spoke. "These are profiles detailing the strengths and specializations of the members of Akatsuki. Use them well." Tilting his head towards her so she could get a full view of his pierced face, he continued. "Should you require my input on who you have chosen, there is an Akatsuki modified I.D. tag in the folder as well. All members have one."

Gesturing for her to open the folder, Sakura pulled out a small stud with petals embroidering its edges. Raising an eyebrow, she looked to the man obviously waiting for her to put it on, and back at the little adornment in her hand. Removing the earring at the top of her right ear, she placed the new one in. _I don't get it, jewelry? _She questioned in her mind. _**Ingenious, is it not? **_ Came a haunting reply in her mind. Snapping her eyes to Pein, he smirked imperceptibly at her. _**The reason for all my piercings has apparently been heavily speculated upon. **_Nodding her head to show that she was listening, he went on. _**Each piercing I have connects me to one of the members of Akatsuki. It is a protected organization secret, so I do ask that you keep it to yourself. And fear not, the studs can be turned off. Simply twist its counter-clockwise twice, and vice versa to turn it back on. **_

Testing the instructions, Sakura twisted the earring between her fingers, feeling more than hearing a _click_ in her mind as the connection ended. Seeing this, Pein spoke again. "Time is of the essence, Haruno Sakura. May the gods smile upon your success."

Knowing a dismissal when she heard one, Sakura stood and bowed to the man in much the same fashion as she had done to her father upon arriving. "Welcome to the family, Yogen Pein. May your tears forever reflect the blood of those deserving their fate," she spoke reverently. It wasn't everyday that someone was brought into the Red Tears Organization. All operatives spoke an abridged form of the oath upon the first meeting of a new member or ally as both a welcome and a warning.

Family was protected at all costs. Anyone who threatened the safety of the family deserved whatever blackened hand Fate dealt them.

Grasping the files in her hand, Sakura swept out of the room and towards the elevator. Three floors down from her father's office was the computer lab, and right now she needed to see a certain spiky haired Weapons and Tech Strategist before she went crazy. Stepping into the compartment and pressing the button for the second floor, Sakura let out a sigh. _This was so not how I envisioned my night going, _she mused to herself.

Thinking back to the race that had begun her journey here, a small smile came unbidden to her face. _I wonder how pretty boy is taking his defeat._ She let out a happy little laugh of victory at the thought of putting the smug bastard in his place. He had come into _her _garage, irritated her, taunted her with his beautiful bike, and then had the _audacity_ to dangle a moonlit ride in front of her nose like she was some sort of groupie? No. Oh, no. That just wouldn't do at all. So she had showed him just what he could do with a bike of that potential. _Modifications or not, if you can't handle the ride, it's just not worth it,_ she thought to herself with no smell sense of pride. She wished she had stayed behind to enjoy the look on his face at having finally seen a set of brake lights, but alas, duty called.

At this, she sighed. She went from having a mission on hiatus, to having two weeks to build and condition a team to combat readiness for a retrieval mission involving three of the people nearest and dearest to her heart. _Welcome home, Sakura,_ she grumbled inwardly as she stepped off the elevator and onto the floor.

Finding herself swept off of her feet and into the arms of an operative fresh out of retirement, she laughed. "Just the man I was looking for. How goes your reunion with the lab, Shika?"

Shikamaru looked down at the girl in his arms with a lazy grin. "Now, now Sakura," he began, playfully scolding her. "You should know by now that all you have to do is say my name and I'll come running."

"Good boy," she said, reaching up to pat him on the head. "All good dogs deserve a treat!"

Coming to a sliding glass door overlooking the rest of the lab, Shikamaru walked into the office and dropped the troublesome pinkette down into her desk chair. Resting his hands on the handles of the chair and trapping her in front of him, he looked down into the eyes of the girl he had waited on for years. She was a woman now, not the little teenager with a temper tantrum. The curves of her body had filled out, she'd finally grown another inch, and while she was still only a little over half his size, her newfound confidence gave her a presence that was absent from he aura when she left.

Resting his forehead against hers, mischief laced his voice as he murmured, "All good dogs deserve a good bone, don't you think?"

Sliding her eyes closed, Sakura reached up and pulled the hair tie from his spiky head, allowing his hair to drop around them like a curtain. "I suppose they do," she said, just as quietly. Leaning her head towards his, slightly brushing his lips with her own, she sighed a little regretfully and pulled away. "Unfortunately, I have work to do. Better luck next time, you old dog," she said with a smile as she turned her chair around and out of his grasp, facing the computer monitor.

Not deterred in the least, Shikamaru leaned down to nuzzle her neck. "All work and no play?" he paused to nip at her ear. "That's not like you, little one." His hands slid to her shoulders, gently massaging out the tension in them. Frowning slightly at the knots his hands encountered, he softly asked, "New orders?"

"Modified orders," she said, forcing herself not to sound drunk under his ministrations. "I'm building a team, you'll be briefed this evening."

A quick glance at the computer told him it was just after three in the morning. _Troublesome,_ he thought. _What is it with this place and its business hours? _"Then you have some time before you actually make a decision," he said as he scooped her up again. Despite her protests, she settled against him as he laid them out on the small couch in the corner of the office. "Get some rest," he said, arms securely wrapped around her frame. "You can start when the sun comes up in a few hours. Besides, you look like shit."

Dodging the leg attempting to knee him and tangling her legs with his own, he chuckled deeply. Feeling his quiet laugh vibrate through her, Sakura relaxed a bit in his hold. A few hours rest would do her good. Drifting off to sleep, she missed the tender look Shikamaru graced her with before closing his own eyes for a well-deserved nap. After all, old dogs did love their treats.

* * *

A few hours later, Sakura was again seated at her desk perusing the files provided for her by Jiraiya and Pein. The Akatsuki were a menacing looking bunch. Thus far, she had come across a fish and a plant, and- _they have a zombie? _She stopped, flabbergasted looking over the third file of one Takaya Kakuzu. Male, 6' 4," aged 91, skilled in technique replication and mimicry, specializes in emergency field aid.

_Impressive and disturbing, _she thought to herself tossing the file aside. He wasn't what she was looking for, but there was no doubt in her mind that he would be an asset. Stretching her arms above her head, she felt little satisfying pops travel along her spine. Shikamaru's hands had worked magic, but a few hours doing paperwork would leave anyone stiff and achy.

She had awoken to a cup of coffee, with the Weapons Tech nowhere to be found. _Probably for the best, _she mused. _I'd be fooling myself if I thought I'd be getting anything done with him having not been briefed on the situation yet. _Rubbing her eyes quickly and shaking her head of her thoughts, she picked up the next file.

Uchiha Itachi.

…_Fuck._

* * *

**A/N: *chuckles nervously* Ahem... I AM NOT DEAD! (anymore) I come bearing a bucket load of excuses for my extended and inexcusable absence, but since I'm sure you would all much rather enjoy a new chapter, I humbly present this to you instead :)**_  
_

**For those of you who I have lost from this journey, I wish you all the best. You are my motivation. For those who plan to continue reading, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. You are my inspiration to keep going. For those of you new to this story, Welcome! I cannot promise you smooth sailing from here on in, but I will finish this story even if it kills me.  
**

**Leave a review, follow the story, or just stop by and yell at me for taking so long to return! I welcome it all. Ta Ta For Now!  
**


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